The World Under Our Feet
by cshen.julienne
Summary: A runaway bride, and a brokenhearted best man met at the edge of a cliff. (Warning: This is a non-wizard story) Hermione/Draco, Harry/Ginny
1. Chapter 1: We Were Not Brave Enough

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. I don't own Harry Potter.

 **:-: The World Under Our Feet :-:**

 **CHAPTER ONE: WE WERE NOT BRAVE ENOUGH**

 _-_ _ **Hermione -**_

There's a guy sneaking under the barricade tapes. Hermione suspects he got here by a car, and happened to park somewhere behind the trees in the forest. She'd tell him to leave, but she doesn't want to. Not really. Surely he can read the signs. DANGER-DO NOT CROSS in red bold capital letters. The police made sure that warning signs decorated the area to keep intruders away. Intruders like her, she supposes, and also like the him even if he was in a very expensive looking black armani suit.

She watched his movements like a hawk hiding in the dark. Took him three minutes top to get past the tapes, another minute before he found himself at the edge of the cliff. She could just imagine what was going through his mind at the moment. _How high was it? Fifty feet? Seventy? A hundred?_ These were normal questions, and she had enough normal to tire of them. Truthfully, normal wasn't bad. But it's not exciting either. And not exciting, she realizes, might as well be considered pretty bad.

He took a step closer to the edge. Just another half-step and he'll fall. She stayed quiet, entertained, and adjusted her butt so that she was more comfortable sitting in the gigantic rock two meters away from him. She grinned. It was oh so fortunate that she found this spot, perfect for spying cliff jumper wannabes. She could call him, scream and make her presence known. Or, maybe she could make some weird sounds to scare him off. It could be fun. She could do that, only she would hate to miss out on seeing what he came here for.

So she just stayed quiet. True enough, he didn't disappoint. His back was on her. He was just there, standing, staring at the darkness. She wasn't even sure he could see what's below. Heck she doesn't really know what's down there.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" He started screaming restlessly.

Aah. _Frustrations_ , she suddenly thought. It's always about frustrations.

He just kept screaming, one loud scream after another. Was he angry? Desperate? Tired of life? He wasn't even screaming actual words. There's no need for words. He merely just wanted to scream.

He looks like a man, she observes. His agonizing and the way he carried himself say it. But if he thinks like one, this she's yet to find out. Even boys can disguise themselves as men. For now, she's seeing a tall, strong built man. Not at all scrawny, with jet black hair that doesn't do well with the wind, and glasses that seem to fit him well. She'd seen other people with their glasses on. Most of them tend to fall off their nose and they often had to rearrange it back. Imagining him as one of them might just make her laugh. Ah, the irony. She came here to mope, and here she was finding amusement at the expense of another.

He adjusted his glasses, and watched the stones fall. There was no sound of course. No splash, though the waves were still roaring down there. They were just stones, pebbles. And the cliff was more or less three hundred feet deep. He tried putting a foot to dangle in the air, but immediately drew it back to solid ground, his leather shoes stomping haphazardly.

She sighed in the shadows above him.

Yet again, the world had managed to produce another coward to live, die and be forgotten in history.

Stupid, she murmured to herself. She should have known such soft sigh would be loud enough in the stillness of the night. The next thing she knew, he was already alert and looking for her.

"Who is there?!" he called to no one, sounding frightened.

She could tell he's terrified and has a good reason to. She could be a rapist or a serial killer on the loose. She's kinda feeling let down. Maybe she should have been one. That would make this scenario even more fun.

But she still has her heart, a pitying one at that. Less than a second and she jumped down to the ground, wincing at the impact of her landing. _It hurts, damn it!_ For one, she's never gonna buy another pair of glass shoes! They suck!

Failing composure, she must as well reveal the vile state she was in. She cleared her throat so it sounds cool, and started walking towards him, holding both sides of her gown so that she wouldn't step on them. She'd had enough tripping for the day. She's perfectly sure she doesn't need anymore.

"Relax. I'm not a serial killer."

He didn't move. He was merely waiting, looking ready to pounce. As soon as he saw her, his eyes bulged.

She almost wanted to ask what he's seeing. What was she in the eyes of this stranger? A girl? A woman? A crazy woman in her bridal dress with messed up hair, smudged makeup and tear streaked face? She might as well be a clown. For once, she actually wouldn't mind if he'd call her crazy, a lunatic. She'd been here for almost six hours. Just her and her thoughts, which were nothing optimistic, if not self degrading at the moment. He could think all he wants. She just wouldn't care. But he didn't run. He relaxed, so that must count for something.

"You're a girl." she heard him state.

She frowned, feeling like banging her own head in the rock. Well that answered her question. Seriously? Twenty three years of existence and not even a woman? Ugh, that hurts.

"Yes, yes I am a girl. And you're a boy. A boy in a suit." she replied, and watched his face morph from shock, to surprise, to frustration and finally for his shoulders to slump down seeing as she was no threat to him, at least not physically.

It was his turn to sigh. He took a few steps back, but then as if he changed his mind, he walked back so he was standing on the very edge of the cliff again. She was almost tempted to just push him. She could help. She would, if he asks. But she'd seen him, and she'd seen enough.

"You know you're just wasting your time. I watched you. If you really wanted to jump, you would have done so without hesitation. It's been minutes and you haven't gotten close to leaning half your body off the edge, which means you really don't want to in the first place. So, why bother?" she said with same tone she uses to describe the weather.

He looked at her, and she stared at his widened big green eyes. She realizes he's quite good looking, and that they form quite a pair, it's amusing. A boy in a suit and a girl in a balloon gown. Obviously they didn't come from the same event, but still it was just like those stories she read in books. Two strangers running off to escape in a secluded and very much restricted place, adrenaline pumping and willing them to jump off to the end of the earth.

Such trail of thought reminded her of a quote.

"To die would be an awfully big adventure." She said, tilting her head to observe him with interest. "You know who said that?"

He stared at her blankly.

She scoffed, gaping at him and shaking her head in disappointment.

"Peter Pan! Seriously, how could you not know that? Are you an alien?"

He didn't reply, but turned his body back to the edge so he was ignoring her.

"Silent type, I see. Alright." She said, shrugging like it was nothing. She waited two seconds before she asked. "So what's your story?"

He was still ignoring her. She frowned.

"I could tell you mine, you know. But mine's boring. I'd rather you tell me your story." she encouraged, enjoying the sight of him shake his head in annoyance.

She could do that. She could annoy him into talking.

"I suppose-"

"Do you ever shut up?" He snapped, making her pause.

She stared at him, and laughed. A full blown laugh that sounded like jingle bells, or at least to her own ears. Now, she might actually join him in worrying for her sanity.

"I'm not usually this talkative you know. But then, I'm not usually drunk. So, are you really gonna jump? Go on. Be my guest." She said, flashing him her perfect set of white teeth, her tone childlike and encouraging as if she was urging him to try a bite of ice cream.

When he didn't respond, she sighed, and walked so she was standing right beside him.

"I see you're afraid. Understandable. I couldn't jump either."

He turned to her, gaping. "You- you tried to-?"

"Jump?" she asked, regarding him. She then lifted her balloon skirt and showed him her feet. Her right foot has a glass shoe on it, the other was bare. She giggled. "Where do you think my other shoe went? I would have jumped to get it, but it already broke. Glass does that you know. They break with a fall that high."

He shook his head at her, massaging his temples. "You're crazy."

She bubbled with laughter.

It wasn't long, and he was laughing too. She thinks it's funny because like her, he probably doesn't have a clue why he's laughing.

But she wasn't the only one laughing this time, so she supposes it's fine.

It was at least a minute when their laughter subsided, and he sat on the ground without saying another word. She took that as an invitation and joined him. She stopped worrying about her dress getting dirty hours ago. Seriously, it couldn't get any dirtier.

At least this is better. He's finally acknowledging her existence. And so they sat beside each other with their legs stretched towards the edge of the cliff. She feels that if someone else was looking, they probably look very out of place with what they're wearing.

"Runaway bride?" He asked conversationally. She looked to see he wasn't looking at her but on the horizon.

She smiled sadly and focused her gaze on the same veil of stars. "Yeah."

She waited a few seconds out of politeness. "And you?"

He sighed, running a hand to mess his wind blown hair. "Runaway best man. Must have been one heck of a wedding huh?"

"It was, I suppose." she said. "Why here? I mean, why did you come here?"

He returned the question with a sad smile of his own. "Same as you, I think. To yell. To scream. To be alone. To escape. It's quiet here."

"But you didn't jump." she commented softly, suddenly feeling too tired to be sarcastic. He was after all, already treating her like an actual person.

He smiled, amused. "Neither did you."

She didn't reply, only stared at the stars. They did that for a while. Just sat in silence, staring at the stars. They saw a meteor or two, but neither commented anything about it. Local custom would imply that they have to wish. Neither really felt like wishing.

"Why did you do it?" she asked, bringing her knees to her chest and leaning her elbows and chin on them. She was watching him from the corner of her eyes. He was biting his lip, looking sad.

"I couldn't do it. I love the bride."

She winced, unable to help a few tears from falling. She didn't know herself a crybaby. Not really. But then she didn't know herself a runaway bride, until that morning.

"What about you?" He asked, looking hesitant. She encouraged him with a nod. "Cheating groom?"

She smiled, chuckling hollowly. She shook her head. "No. He didn't cheat. He isn't like that."

"Then what? Why did you run away?"

"He wasn't brave enough. He should have been here you know. He should have chased me. But he didn't. I guess that was a sign. Maybe it was me that wasn't good enough for him."

"I don't get it." He said, looking honest. "You ran, expecting he'll chase you? You want both of you to run from your own wedding?"

She chuckled. "Well, when you put it that way…"

"I still don't get it. Women are too complicated for me."

"The thing is, it wasn't our wedding. Us running away. Him following me, it would have been a symbol. That this is our wedding, not theirs. Our life together that we're choosing, a life not meant to be dictated by them. I guess he didn't understand that."

"Did you tell him? Did you tell him that you want him to run away with you?"

She looked at him like he'd grown antlers. "Of course not, it's a given! I'm his bride. Wherever I go, he should follow if he really loves me."

He stared at her.

"I stand corrected. You are crazy."

She scoffed.

He never said anything more after that. She guesses he never truly feels he has the right to, considering they're both crazy really. He could deny it all he wants, but she believes they actually were quite similar. Both lone, estranged individuals who had just lost it. But a part of her thinks that he just simply sympathizes.

Still she wishes he would talk. Apparently, she realized she was too tired to do it on her own.

A few more hours passed in silence. He was the first one to stand, but he didn't leave until he'd somehow forced her into wearing his shoes.

She was smiling as he left in just his socks.

They parted without goodbyes.

He didn't ask and she didn't have to tell him that she's just as lost as he was.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ _Hi! Thank you for reading :) So how was it? More importantly, how was the narration? I do dream to be a good story teller so I'll hope you'll give me good and useful advice. Have a good day, and please keep supporting me and my stories. You can even tell your friends about them._

Cshen.J

 _PS: For the record, NO, I do not promote suicide! This is pure fiction and the story would continue without either of them jumping. So please,_ _ **CHILDREN LIVE YOUR**_ **LIVE.** _If it hurts, endure it. Everyone does. Pray & praise! It gets better, trust me._


	2. Chapter 2: We Were All Broken Pieces

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. I don't own Harry Potter.

 ** _A/N:_** This story was originally meant to be a one-shot. However I could not help but want to continue because there are just so many variables I could play around with and it is a good means to practice my narration. Would appreciate if you can tell me what you think. I always aim to be a good story teller.

Have fun reading!

 **:-: The World Under Our Feet :-:**

 **CHAPTER TWO: WE WERE ALL BROKEN PIECES OF SOMETHING GOOD**

 _ **-Hermione-**_

The cab driver was going to kill her, Hermione was sure of it. The thought was on her mind as she scurried to open the door of her parents house. It was three fifteen in the morning and she was the only one awake in this God forsaken subdivision that had been her childhood home. Well, she, and the driver that was impatiently waiting to be paid in their front lawn. She was just thankful he did not turn out to be a serial killer. And at least, he was kind enough to accommodate her even if she was covered in dirt and sweat. She sniffed her hair, and was ready to wrinkle her nose. She was surprised that she still smells good, probably the lavender shampoo, she supposes.

Anyway, back to the driver that hates her so. She could understand he was pissed she didn't mention she didn't have her wallet with her when she accepted the ride. If only the blasted door would open, then she would not feel his glares sending daggers at her back. Screw that, maybe he'd wring her neck, or worse! Maybe he'd drown her in her own tub. As a child, she'd always hated the water. It was a miracle in itself that she lasted hours with her feet dangling on th edge of a cliff. Momentary lapse of judgment can do wonders. But now that she had actually calmed down, she was starting to feel like her old self again. Her fears were starting to become scary again. The irony now, because she was the kind of girl who hated cliches, and yet she had turned herself into one, a runaway bride.

She felt the doorknob make a turn. _Finally!_ She squealed, feeling apologetic to her sleeping neighbors after she did. She did notice their lights remained off, that was a good sign.

She would remove her shoes, if she didn't already. What's the use of a pairless glass shoe anyway? She wasn't Cinderella. Wait, maybe she was. She did run away from her Prince Charming after all.

She heard the cab's honk, and horrified, she did not bother to turn on the light. She tried to feel with her hands and hurriedly rummaged the shoe cabinet just behind the door, remembering from her childhood experiences how her parents always leave some bills inside their shoes in case of emergency.

A huge grin decorated her face when she felt the crumpled papers that she had no doubt were money. She did not even bother to count, but simply took everything she could find. After checking five pairs of shoes, she ran back to the driver. She grinned as the cab's light showed her the driver's widened eyes and she was made her aware of the enormous amount she was holding.

"Take it," she said, "Consider it my thanks." _For not killing me,_ _she did not add._

As she expected, the driver was more than happy to comply.

She watched him drive away, and she was alone once again. She knew she should be relieved. She was safe in her parent's house. But for some reason, she couldn't shrug away the feeling that something was coming, and it scares her to the bones.

Sighing, she closed the door behind her, felt the wall and turned on the light. She gasped and was ready to faint right then and there at the sight that greeted her. The taxi driver apparently had not enough reason for murder. But Draco has. Dear Lord, this man has every reason to kill her in the most horrendous means, and she could not even complain it was undeserved.

Still, she stood her ground, trying her best not to shake at being the subject of his scrutiny. He was just as she remembered, undeniably perfect in all his Malfoy glory, she actually feels unfair for the rest of the male population . She scolded herself for the smile that wanted to come at seeing he hasn't changed his attire. He was still wearing the same white tuxedo with the black collar and ribbon, his platinum blonde hair making him look mouth watering even as it looked like he had run his hand on it at least a dozen times. Knowing him and considering what happened, he'd probably done it a lot more.

"You look like crap," were the first words he said to her. She clenched her teeth and tried not to strangle him then. _The nerve of the this guy,_ she thought.

He did it then. Right in front of her, he ran his hand through his hair, and she felt like being hit with an arrow of pain when she saw his shoulders slump. She knew he must be exhausted.

"And lock the door Hermione. We both know you're not going anywhere," he added, his condescending tone effectively dissolving any pity she feels at the moment and replacing it with extreme annoyance.

"Yes, well, look who's talking!" She fired back, flare in her eyes and hands on her hips.

She had to admit, if there was any distinguishable qualities in her groom, ahm, her **_ex_** -groom, it was his ability to bring the worst in her whenever he pleases. Her own stubborness and unwillingness to lose was keeping her stand, but in truth, she was dead beat. How can she not be? With all the crying and walking barefeet she's done. She was just glad he couldn't see her toes hidden underneath her once stunning designer's dress. Now, it looks very much like a pile of rubble has been thrown to it.

She knew she was being irrational. They both were, acting like toddlers and having a staring contest now of all times! But he wouldn't lose, and neither would she! Even if in truth it was killing her to admit that she was more at fault than he was. Even more so that the time she spent at the cliff had made her accept that she was on the wrong and made a terrible mistake. She was the coward, not him. She was defeated by her own emotions that she left him alone at the altar without so much as glancing back. She hated herself for it, and maybe later on she would hate herself more for fighting him head on instead of saying the apology speech she prepared at the cliff. She just couldn't say it, not with him standing there and waiting to see her breakdown. _Foolish,_ she thought, because he had already seen her at her worst. But she was totally scared that this time, it would be so much worse than before if she couldn't stop it.

"I'm not going to say sorry for leaving our wedding," she started, with the same bite in her tone, but they both knew she wasn't angry. She knows that he knows her enough to know she was making a statement.

He nodded in response, and sighed as he started to walk to her, glaring as she instinctively took steps back so she was nearer to the door.

She found herself taking him in. He really look beat, like he had run a marathon in his wedding uniform. Seeing him like this hurts.

"Hermione." He said her name, as if daring her to bolt and run away from him again.

Now, it was something she knows about Draco Malfoy. He always had a way of intimidating which works on even the most unfeeling and fearless people in the world. At this point in time, she would be lying to say that she wasn't scared. She was, and very much so. But she wasn't scared that he would hurt her. She was certain that even if she asked him to, hurting her intentionally was one thing he would never do to her.

Finding it all ridiculous, she put up a brave face, dropped her façade as she too let her shoulders slumped, as she reached down for the door, ignoring his eyes following her every move. She saw him tense when she held the knob, and he didn't bother hiding his relief when she only locked it.

Fatigue was overwhelming her as she headed for the living room, where she literally threw herself at the long rectangular white sofa. Hoisting her disgusting skirt up, she pulled her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them to bury her chin.

"What do you want Draco?" she asked.

She heard no reply, but heard the sound of muffling cabinets and running water from the kitchen.

She had no idea how long she waited. Her eye lids were closing on their own accord, and she could only yelp in surprise when she felt him kneel in front of her and pulled her legs to him.

"Hey!" she cried.

But he did not speak, and she watched his eyes furrowed in great concentration as he took a towel from the water basin and use it to gently wipe her feet.

That was when the tears began falling and she couldn't help it.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," she murmured.

Her words made him froze, but only for a moment because he sighed, and without looking at her face, continued to clean her feet. She watched him open the medical kit she did not even know they have and proceeded to apply some ointment on her wounds.

She knew he was rarely a man with many words. But he had always shown his real side to her, the side when he was talkative and fun loving and not the kind of stranger vibes he was giving to her now. She couldn't bear it, not his anger or silence even when she knew she was very much deserving of them.

She did not even ask him how in the world he knew she'd be here. He was Draco. He always know.

"Are you mad?" She asked.

Still no reply.

"Are we-," she paused, closing her eyes, totally afraid but needing to know the answer anyway. "Are we breaking up?"

She winced in pain as she felt his grip on her foot tightened so much, it hurts.

"NO!" He exclaimed, enraged mercurial eyes glaring into her brown orbs so intensely she would cringe if she was not overwhelmed with relief.

"I don't care if I waste money on ten, even a hundred more weddings Hermione! You can run away all you want but no way am I marrying another woman! I'm only getting married to you and that's that! Do you understand?"

Unable to hide a smile even when he was yelling at her, she nodded mutely.

They stayed like that for a while, at least until her feet were treated. Then she heard his stomach grumble, and he groaned. She chuckled, only to blush as her stomach followed his. It was his turn to grin, but she was unwilling to have him tease her.

"Let me up Draco. I'm going to cook us a meal."

She would have succeeded in standing up if he did not push her back down and glared at her, again. He seemed to be doing that a lot and if she didn't know any better, she'd say he has found a new hobby.

"No. You stay here. Rest. I'm cooking us a meal. Is there even anything on your fridge?" He asked, already heading to the kitchen.

Hermione sighed, then pulled herself up and collected her long skirt so she would not trip as she walks.

"I think the caretaker got some groceries. But if there's nothing, just order us something while I go take a badly needed shower."

She saw him rummage her refrigerator and pull out some vegetables. She watched him open multiple drawers to find a pan, a spatula, pulling out everything he could find. She was literally rendered speechless at how perfect he looked. He looked so out of place in their small house filled with old furniture and flower designed vintage wallpaper, and yet he was moving so naturally as if he grew up here.

The meat was in the chopping board when he stopped, pulling out his cellphone to put it by his ear.

"Hello? Frugo's Pizza? Yes, this is Draco Malfoy. The address is 327 Lavender Ville Subdivision. Yes, it is the one five blocks away from your store. We'd like to order a Full Meat Blast, the largest and no onions. Cut them into squares, would you?"

He did not even finish talking when she could not restrain herself anymore and practically threw herself at his back, hugging him from behind.

"I love you," She said, her words muffled as she buried her face into his back.

She was feeling so worn out that no words could do her justice, but this man, this man was calming her nerves and stabilizing her in a way no energy drink can. His presence was making her breathe right and feel right and her heart swelled as he held her hand that was on his torso.

"And I you," He whispered back, dropping off his phone near the sink.

She smiled, knowing they're going to be okay just because of those words.

She loosened her grip as he felt him turn to her, and she tried so hard not to melt when his palm reached out to her cheek. This was the man she had hurt, and the man whose every breathe could make her feel alive.

She stayed still when he leaned in to kiss her, his lips moist and soft against her dried trembling lips. She could hear her unsteady breathing The way he touches her, his scent of sweat and expensive perfume, she was going mad just waiting for him to feel her. His eyes were burning a window to her soul, and yet he kisses like he was giving her his soul. Hermione pulled him in longing, her eyes begging him to take what was meant to be his had she not run away.

His gaze was deep, as if she had entranced him with a wordless spell. She knew he understood what she wanted when he bit his lower lip. But she was too eager to wait, and took her turn to initiate a kiss, hoping he would feel her resolve as she poured everything she could give.

She moaned when he bit her lip, and she didn't object when he hoisted her up to the sink and wrapped her legs to his waist. Nervousness hit her when his hand started pulling her back zipper down, but she didn't stop him from trailing feather soft kisses on her neck.

She thought of the day when they first met, the day when he was nothing but a nasty jerk who made her cry for saying something she didn't even understand. She thought of him, and everything else faded, even her own self as he continued to suck on her flesh, and carried her like he was carrying a child, so light and delicate in his arms.

He used her exposed back to turn on the light in the room she'd spent her younger years in. He paused when he settled her on her bed, and she watched in silence as he took his time to look at her.

She would laugh if it wasn't a bad time, because the man was being extra careful to undress her.

"Will you still marry me after this?" she asked.

His eyes softened then, and he stopped unhooking her bra to kiss the ring on her finger, the wedding ring that he had given her at the altar.

"Nothing can stop me," he said, earning her smile.

If only the rest of the world could see how he treats her. Then no one would dare call him a cold, unfeeling man.

"I did say I do, you know?" she said, breathless, and unable to stop some tears.

He looked surprised at her words, and he laughed as he wiped her tears with the back of his hands.

"Yes love, but you still left me before I could say my vows," he said, and she winced when he flicked her nose, "That was unfair."

It hurts, but she laughed with him.

"That's why we're going to do it again. I'm going to propose to you again, and then you're going to come to me crying because you are so touched, **_again_**." he teased, his playful side in blatant display as his fingers played with her hair, "And then we're going to get married, in a wedding that you and I want. Screw my parents and everyone else! I promise you, the next time I marry you, it's going to be everything you want. I'm going to give you everything you could ever hope for. So be prepared Granger."

There were her tears again, but she was smiling, and so was he. He would win the cheesiest line award, but she was always determined to make him lose.

"But I already have everything I want." she said, taking her turn to caress his cheeks and stare at his mesmerizing mercurial eyes, "You're here. I had a momentary lapse of judgment because I was angry, and I hurt you because of it. But I want you to know, it wasn't your fault. To me, you are everything and more Draco."

The way his eyes lit up reminded her of the first time she had given him a gift, and she would tell him so had he not leaned in to stop her words, resuming to kiss her again. She chuckled as he cursed when the doorbell rang just in time.

He joined her laughter when their stomach growled in syncrony.

"Pizza?" he asked.

She nodded, perfectly content at where they stood.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Thank you for reading. If there will be more chapters to come, I cannot really tell. The stories come and go as they please. Seriously, I'm in the middle of working on another story when I remembered this one, and then BAM! The words just flowed. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading. :) Review please!_


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